The Omega Theory
by JustThreeGoddesses
Summary: Three girls wind up in a mysterious unknown world, de-aged to their diaper years. One is convinced it's real, one is determined it's a hallucination, and the last decides to just go with it. But the real questions are: Why are they here? And how will they get home? Rated for explicit language. ON HIATUS
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: We don't own anything. Everything belongs to the great and mighty JK Rowling and while we wish we were her we are not.**

* * *

Omega is the last letter of the Greek alphabet. Taken to mean death, the end of life.

Death is finite and somber, however Omega is neither. Omega is a continuous curve of life that sustains all beings that it kills. An end of an era brings in a beginning of another, a twinkle of electricity emerging from a dead spark.

There can be many omegas happening at once. New plant growth from dead foliage. A new body of a starfish from a lost limb. These omegas don't have a big impact on others. They happen and life moves on.

But once in an era, an omega happens that alters time itself. The sheer power of the omega causes a change so powerful that it changes the universe forever.

These omegas are no accident. They don't just happen. It take a lot of deliberate power and force to even jump start the twinkle, those of several orders of magnitude.

But to make the omega truly powerful, truly universe-altering, it requires the power of sheer will. Does it sound cliche Maybe. But this type of sheer will is not something that is taught. Not something that can be learned.

It's funny how the most powerful things come in threes. Deaths, births, even the fates themselves. So it's fitting that our story ends and begins with the three of us. Sisters, completely different, separated by death itself, reunited in the most peculiar of circumstances. Unwilling to bend to even the darkest of situations forced from each other by the most absolute end, and the most glorious beginning.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: We don't own anything. Everything belongs to the great and mighty JK Rowling and while we wish we were her we are not.**

* * *

**Ainley**

I wake up slowly, immediately searching for my knife. My hand reaches for it, only to come up empty. What the hell? I starting to panic.

Who the _fuck _took my knife. I swear to God when I find-

I attempt to sit up only to discover that I can't. I can't move anything very well, actually. I manage to roll myself over onto my stomach and open my eyes to look around at my surroundings, but everything is blurry. I've always had perfect vision, nothing should look blurry.

What the actual fuck is going on?

My thoughts are interrupted when I see a woman open the door and coming toward me. I reach for anything to defend myself against her and only find the smooth white bar of a crib.

Fuck, I got nothing.

Wait, why is there a crib?! I can't throw a bloody crib!

That's when I notice how small my hand is.

Why… Wait, am I a baby?

This is _definitely_ a baby's hand! How the- Hey! "No, no, get your damn hands off me! What the hell are you doing, put me DOWN _NOW_!" My attempts to yell at the woman, though, go unheeded as the only thing that comes out of my mouth are gurgles and indistinguishable sounds. She puts me in her arms, resting me on her hip and cooing at me in this oddly gentle tone. She turns toward the door and calls out to someone.

"Caius, come here! The baby's awake."

A moment later a tall man with black hair walks in, smiling at me and the woman before holding his hands out. "No, absolutely not. If you think I'm coming anywhere near you without-"

I try to protest as the red-haired woman hands me to the man, but again to no avail. I sigh inwardly. He starts cooing at me too.

"Hello, sweetheart! How are you today, _wee barin_?"

Is he serious? How am I? Who the fuck are you?! Where am I, and why the hell do you look so big? Wait, what did you just say? Did you just speak some Gaelic nonsense?

He turns us around, facing a mirror. Well, shit.

I look into the mirror and find the man, holding a baby. Of course, logic would say that the baby would have to be me, because he's holding me. But how is this possible? I'm a 28 year old woman, Goddamn it! How could I have de-aged over night? I guess that explains why my hand looked so weird.

"Our beautiful little Ainley." The man says, smiling at me through the mirror.

Ain- what? Did he just say Ainley? "My name is _not _Ainley, you idiot! Look, I am a grown-ass woman, and-"

Wait… What the hell _is _my name? And why can't i remember it? Suddenly, all the questions I had about this odd predicament leave my mind.

And for the life of me the only thing I could think was, "Fuck."

* * *

**Cassiopeia **

I woke up in a prison. Can't say that's the first time, but this one's oddly frilly and nauseatingly pink. My vision is oddly blurry, kind of like when you wake up from a hangover and are still kind of drunk but I had no headache to accompany it. Attempting to move my body was a process, it felt like it's been drugged or asleep for a very long time, even lifting my head was a process and seemed unnecessarily tiresome. I shook my head to try and clear it. "Is anyone there?" I tried to ask, but it came out as a series of mumbles that could barely pass as human words. I looked down and took mental stock of my body, checking for any injuries that may keep me from leaving or making an escape attempt and promptly screamed at the top of my lungs. Everything is smaller, chubbier, and more baby-ish than it should be.

That's it. This isn't real. I'm dreaming. I pinched myself, trying to wake up, but all I felt was a slight pain that made my eyes water. I crushed the oncoming tears, I don't cry anymore and I will not in this situation either, baby or not.

Just then I heard a door open. It sounded heavy and pretty solid, but there were no bars like there normally would be on a cell. It seems as if these weird white ones surrounding me were my only prison, and that I'm just in an obnoxiously frilly room.

Right, okay, I can plan for that. I've escaped from weirder situations.

I felt my body being lifted and snapped out of my musings. There were two rather huge people staring down at me with what seemed to be acceptance and disappointment.

"She's beautiful." The woman said to the male one.

Clearly they're not expecting me to understand them.

"She's a girl. We must have a boy to continue the line." The male grunted out and dismissed me completely, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind him. The noise startled me and I attempted to stop the involuntary tears my body wanted to produce. I will not cry over comments with no meaning to me.

"It's okay little princess, the bad man's gone. Shh." The woman tried to calm me and like it or not my body was soothed by her quiet reassurances. She carefully lowered me to the floor and released me on to the ground where I immediately tried to stand.

Part 1 of my escape plan: walking.

She looked surprised that I was standing, clearly she expected whatever they had done to me to last longer. "Only 16 months and trying to walk?" She exclaimed softly. Wait, what? Bitch I'm almost 30 years old not 16 months. Are you implying that I've been here for 16 months, or that your drug only lasted for 16 months?

I was brought out of my musings by her gasp of excitement. I looked at her, demanding an answer with my eyes. Clearly I couldn't speak very well so why bother actually asking?

"A metamorphmagus!" she exclaimed with what I can only assume to be wonder, "That hasn't been active in the family for decades. Augustus will be so proud." Augustus must be the man who was here before, but why would I want to make him proud? And what the fuck is a metamorphmagus?

Just what the devil is going on here? I must be dreaming somehow, but still able to feel pain. Is that how lucid dreaming works? You can feel everything and control the situations pertaining to the world and yourself but eventually you wake up. Right? Right. I will wake up eventually, and whoever did this will pay.

I looked over at the woman who put me on the floor. She clearly had no idea that I was actually almost 30 de-aged to this level, and was probably a construct of my dream. Therefore she is not a threat, and may be a possible ally. I nodded slightly and toddled over to her as she stared at me in shock and a bit of awe.

"Augustus must see this." She said and promptly scooped me up and headed out the door of my bedroom.

And, for the life of me, all I could think was "Fuck."

* * *

**Eulalie**

It's not unusual for me to wake up completely disoriented and unaware to what's going on. It's only once every 3 blue moons I actually wake up refreshed. I open my eyes to blurry surroundings, partly from the fact that I don't have my glasses on and partly because my eyes are burning from the light. Everything feels really warm, like I'm in a blanket burrito, except with a blanket tortilla that's a little too hot. I decided that I didn't want to wake up yet, and settled back into my little burrito.

A hand runs over my head and cups my cheek. I immediately open my eyes with a "what the fuck" on my lips when I realize I'm looking at a strange woman who's at least 3 times bigger than me.

"_Bonjour_ Eulalie, how are you, _petite amie_?" she said in a heavy French accent with a huge smile on her face.

I realize I'm probably in a fucked up dream again. Then again, I've never had this dream before. I must've had a bit too many Fireball shots last night.

I look around the room and drank in the pink lace and soft pastel wall. The room had all the looks of a pricey interior decorator's work, and I liked it. The woman smelled flowery, and it was delicious. I started to settle into this dream, and even though it was kind of weird, it was comforting.

A man comes over to me and the woman, and kisses her on the forehead. He tells her something in what sounds like French. I strain my ears to make out something, anything, except I actually don't know any French and there was no point in trying. The woman then hands me over to the man, and something in me clicks that this isn't a dream.

He is smiling and cooing at me, the way all adults do when they see a cute little child. I feel really light, and realize that he's picked me up completely off the ground. I shake my legs and try and tell him to set me down before I scream, but all that comes out are little wiggles and a "bahhhh cooh cooh" out of my mouth. I look at my hands, and they're tiny baby hands. I see down and see a tiny torso in weird cotton onesie.

Crap, this isn't a dream, I'm _actually_ a baby.

Like in a _diaper._

Like a _baby._

And for the life of me the only thing I could think was, "Fuck."


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: We don't own anything. Everything belongs to the great and mighty JK Rowling and while we wish we were her we are not. **

**Cassiopeia has been majorly overhauled and edited. If you've read the first three chapters prior to 3/17/2015 go read at least her part again!**

* * *

**Cassiopeia**

It's been almost three years since I've entered this dream. So far the speaking and walking aspect of things has greatly improved, at least enough for my "mother" to enroll me in dance, diplomacy, latin, history, and etiquette classes. Apparently, as whatever the fuck a pureblood is, it's completely required for me to act like a lady. Why I'm learning a dead language I'll never know. Will this even stick with me when I wake up? Seriously, what's the point of this?

Something tells me there's going to be a couple issues with that.

But whatever, my subconscious apparently wants to see me act like a lady, or at least the ones in charge of my dream do, and I don't have the power to contradict them right now. I'll go on with what they're planning, and we'll see how it goes.

I've been given free range of the "house" since I started walking. My captors, or "parents" as they want me to call them, even replaced my caged bed with a normal one. This place is fucking huge! It's got at least 15 bedrooms in my wing alone. It's more like a castle than anything, apparently these people are very well off. The only rooms in my wing and the main part of the household that I haven't been allowed into are the library and my "Father's" office, both of which I need to access in order to reach the next stage of my plan.

Escape Plan Part 2: Research

It's actually very simple. I know nothing about where I am, and have by now figured out that I cannot will events to happen like someone would in a normal lucid dream, leading me to believe that there's someone else in control here. I was never one to be controlled and I'm sure as hell not starting now. So my plan? Learn as much as possible by whatever means necessary to make my eventual escape.

I'm constantly shadowed by creatures that no one has explained to me. Granted, this body's only three and they probably don't expect me to act the way I do and actually notice things, but every time I see them they pop off with a squeak. They clearly don't want to be seen, are they the ones that trapped me here? Are they in charge of my imprisonment, of this fucked up dream? Those floppy-eared bastards.

Each day here questions are answered, but even more are raised. The main one is the question of the stick like machines my "parents" keep using to make things happen. I need to get my hands on one, maybe even more than one, and try to control what's happening here. Maybe they're the key to getting out of this mess.

I really need to get into the library. I tried the door again, it's locked as usual. Sigh. Wait, if this is my dream then shouldn't I be able to get in? Can I pick the lock? WHY HAVE I NEVER TRIED TO PICK THE LOCK? Right, okay. I need a bobby pin. Wait would a bobby pin even work on these doors? No, I should steal one of their sticks and try to use that. Maybe that's the key to all of this.

* * *

**Eulalie**

_Yawn. _I woke up from my fifth nap of the day, stretching my mouth a little bit in what I can imagine was cute as fuck.

"Aww, the little _bébé_ is waking up from her _petit somme_, _non?_" my father said as he walked into the room. "Oui, père," I replied in an impeccable French accent I picked up.

"Aww, come here, my little kitten," and he smooches me right on my cheek. I giggle because his mustache tickles.

I don't know if I accept this elaborate dream to be real or not, but it sure as hell is nice being warm and bundled up. It's also great to be coddled all the time. I mean, I'm not a spoiled child my any means, but considering what my past life was like, it's a nice change. It's a simple life filled with naps and food, which is all anyone could ever want.

He puts me on the floor, and I guide my little feet down the hallway, with my right hand in his left. It was time for an evening walk. He hands me to my mother, and he kisses her on the cheek too.

She puts her hands under my arms and pick me up to the air and sets me on the table.

"Hello my little flower! Ready to take a walk with your père? It's a beautiful day out and Ames is excited to go out with you!" Ames was my Siberian Husky that I got for my first birthday.

"Oui mama! I cannot wait to go outside!" "Aww there's my little baby" she replied with a smooch on my cheek.

It was the same trail everyday, and, considering it was the middle of summer, everything was pretty much exactly the same, but I looked forward to the walk everyday. Strolling down the garden in the back of my house or riding Ames like a horse was bliss.

I considered escaping before, way back when I could barely crawl. I'd try and think of a plan, anything to get me out of this house. But as the days went by, and I'd wake up to the love of my wonderful parents and an adorable dog, I realized I didn't want anything more than this. Why would I ever leave?

* * *

**Ainley**

I usually wake up fairly early in the morning, but try not to make much noise until a slightly better hour so that I don't feel like that much of an asshole for waking up Aunt Lena. But hey, I'm a fucking two year old, right? If I'm hungry then I'm hungry, end of story. She never seems to mind, though. Of course, she didn't really seem to mind all that much when i started living with her.

I'm not sure what the hell happened to my parents, either. They left me with Aunt Lena one day three months ago and didn't come back. I woke up from a nap and heard her and other men saying something about an "Order" and "an ambush". I don't fucking know, but I suppose it doesn't really matter. Technically I only really knew them for a few months before they disappeared. I mean hell, I'm not even sure what's going on anymore. I still don't have any idea how I got back to being a baby! This is actually fucking terrible. I mean, my Aunt is fine and all, but who the fuck wants to be a baby again? I can't do anything for myself anymore, I always need help.

I haven't been this dependent on someone in years, and it's really screwing with me. And if it weren't already bad enough, I have to follow _rules! _Like, no. I follow my own rules, no one else's. But again, since I'm just a baby now, I don't have a choice. Lena won't let me have my damn knife back, for one thing. Every time I try to take one she snatches it out of my grasp, telling me something about it being dangerous and I could hurt myself.

Bitch, please. You don't even _want _to know what I can do with that knife. Every single time try to tell her, though, she just stares at me for a second before laughing and telling me I have a wild imagination.

Well, that could explain what the fuck is going on.

Except, no. I may not fully understand, but I do know that this is _definitely not _my imagination. I suppose it could be a dream, but this would be a super ridiculously elaborate fucking dream, so it still seems unlikely. So I guess it must be real. How, though, I haven't got a clue.

I get this weird feeling that something's not right with this whole situation, and I'm not really sure how I feel about it. Part of me wants to panic and figure out how to get the fuck out of here as quickly as humanly possible, but the other part actually sort of likes this place and doesn't want make the effort. Lena is really nice when she's not trying to make me follow rules, and I feel like she would totally flip shit if me in all my two year old glory just up and disappeared one day. It'd be funny shit, though.

I'd ask Lena myself, but I haven't actually figured out how to talk outside of my head yet, so that's going to have to wait. I have this weird feeling though, that I do have family besides Lena. I know she's not the only family I have, there's no way. I don't know who or where they are, and I suppose it's going to take me a while to figure it out.

But I will figure it out, that's for damn sure.


	4. Chapter 3

**Enter generic disclaimer of sadness here. We don't own shit.. Blah blah.. Blah blah.**

**Cassiopeia has been entirely overhauled as of 3/18/2015 before this point. If you have read the story before that point go back and read hers if you don't want to be confused later. Sorry about that.**

* * *

**Cassiopeia**

My dream body is 5 years old now. I'm beginning to think this is more of a simulation or a dream one has when they're comatose than a simple night's sleep type of dream. It's been going on for far too long, I should have woken up by now. I still have no clues as to how to wake up or even get anywhere in my research involving the process of getting home, even as the library was finally opened for my perusal by my mother after my father died last summer. I wonder if he could have survived if I hadn't stolen his wand trying to open the library doors all those years ago. I never did give it back, and I did steal at least 14 more from him that he procured as replacements. He really should have been more careful with his things, especially those as important as his wand. Or maybe he just underestimated me because I'm female, he always did say he wanted a boy.

Oh well, not my problem anymore.

My mother has begun taking me to work with her, she works in a store as an enchantress focusing on things called Runes and Arithmancy. Apparently she doesn't want to leave me in the house alone with the house elves, the technical term for the floppy eared bastards, anymore. She's become rather protective since that bastard's death, which really inhibits my plans to escape from here. So far I've been using the daily trips to her store to scout around and try to figure out where we are in the world, though judging by the accents we're in England somewhere, Cheshire, England to be precise.

Unfortunately I can't do the type of instantaneous travel that my mother can, and to be honest I'm not sure if I want to. It's absolutely nauseating. In fact all travel here is kind of nauseating to the point where if I didn't need to gather information about the world I would probably just stay home and read in the big-ass library downstairs. And because of this I'm still stuck on Part 2 of my escape plan. Nothing I've tried so far has worked, and I have a feeling that nothing I can do right now will.

I finally found what a metamorphmagus was too. It's a person that can change their features to look like anything they can imagine, along with their hair color and length. From experimentation I figured out the most I could change my height by was a few inches, and the further I got from my normal form the more clumsy I become. It's also a pretty rare talent, so mother has me keep it hidden when we go into public for "my own protection". The most I could get away with is changing a few streaks of my hair to different colors, and even then she gets mad. It seems like she's waiting for something bad to happen to us, my father's death really spooked her. I'm never told anything, of course, but she has the entire manor on lockdown and hardly ever lets me out of her sight.

She seems astonished by my "progress" in my studies, as are my various tutors, and is starting to expect me to do odd things like read large books and not ask her stupid questions like "what sound does a cow make?" or "What letter comes after G?" For fucks sake I'm almost 33 now. Obviously I'm going to accelerate my studies in this nonsense. I already have two masters degrees from my first life. What more do you want from me woman?

I flopped down on one of the couches in the reading nook attached to the library with a huff.

"Ladies do not flop Cassiopeia!" Her voice floated through my head.

"Who ever said I was a lady?" I mumbled to myself quietly. I'm really starting to hate this lady crap. When am I ever going to use this? Why is my subconscious wanting me to act like a lady? This is definitely the strangest dream I've ever had. I looked to the corner of the nook I was in, and noticed my violin. Apparently all ladies can play at least one instrument, and so mother started me on the violin and the piano shortly before father died. I have moderate talent with both, and can now avoid making screechy noises with my violin. Mother listens to me play sometimes when she isn't busy but always has this soft, sad look on her face when I play the violin. For all her preaching I've never even seen her touch an instrument unless she's enchanting it, and even then she handles them as swiftly and avoiding as much contact as possible. There's a story behind this somewhere, and for the life of me I can't figure it out.

I sure as hell can't ask either, as she just gives me a stern look and parrots the phrase "Ladies never pry" before primly flouncing off. I'm so done with this dream bullshit. Someone get me out of here. I must have had family somewhere. Are they looking for me? Will they wake me up? Unless they're here too. And if they are can they help me? I have to look into this. Somehow.

Honestly. Like, fuck this shit.

* * *

**Eulalie**

I was playing ball with a few of my neighborhood friends while their parents were over my house for one of their fancy parties. While I love those kinds of parties, where people drink tea with their pinkies out and munch on tiny little squares of food, my time in this new life of mine made me realize just how much I miss being a little kid again. So there's no rush for those little squares just yet.

I toss the ball over to Agnes, a girl that I am best friends with. It bounces softly on the dirt then makes it's way towards her. She catches it with outstretched arms and a giggle, and my child instincts make me giggle and clap. Agnes throws it over to Sylvie, who is quite possible the meanest bitch in all of Nantes. Why she doesn't like us, I don't know. But I know that her father is some wealthy, influential person, and alas I must deal with Her Majesty.

Again the ball bounces softly, and makes its way to Sylvie, but Sylvie, the klutz that she is, accidentally bounces it while trying to catch it and it rolls away from her. Agnes and I let out a little giggle by accident, but by the time we catch ourselves it was too late. Sylvie heard it.

Luckily Sylvie didn't see me, but she caught Agnes red-handed. She stomped over to Sylvie with a face scrunched up like a puckered butthole, and pulled on one of Agnes's pigtails. "Owwwww!" cried Agnes, man Sylvie pulled that tail hard.

I felt so bad for Agnes, and ran over to console her. "What is wrong with you Sylvie?!" I cried towards Sylvie, knowing full well the answer, that she was a messed up child.

Agnes started crying harder. And harder. I didn't want her parents to see because I don't want them to take her away from me. I touch her shoulder and try and console her wordlessly. I think about her being taken away from me, and it makes me sad. Stop crying Agnes!

Suddenly, Agnes stops crying. Like, her face immediately relaxes and she wipes her tears away. Her red, blotched face turns to me and gives a big smile. I smile back, confused.

She was crying like someone punched her in the uterus 2 seconds ago. Why was she fine now?

That didn't matter. She was fine. But I was still angry at Sylvie. That was the final straw.

I grab Agnes's hand and make her run towards the house with me. I was going to let everyone know that Sylvie was the meanest twit in all of the land.

I grab mama's hand and pull on it twice like a doorbell, and she stops her sentence and looks down at me. "What is it, Eulie?"

"Mama, Sylvie hurt Agnes and Agnes was crying really hard. Please tell Sylvie to go away."

Mama just laughed. "Oh you kids!"

"No mama. Agnes was hurt. Please tell Sylvie to go away."

Suddenly Sylvie struts in like she owns the place. I wonder why I never noticed it before, but she has a really punchable face. The nose is the perfect shape and size for an ol' five-knuckle sandwich.

That was it. Damn that stupid Sylvie.

I stared at Mama and just thought of how upset I was at Sylvie. I didn't know what else to say and was trying to muster the words. "No ple-" I started, finally finding my words, but mama's face became serious.

She grabbed my and Agnes's hand and walked over the Sylvie's mother.

"Madam, you daughter attacked my daughter's friend. Please have Sylvie apologize," she said sternly.

* * *

**Ainley**

"Aunt Lena?"

She looks up from the sink where she was doing the dishes and sees me standing in the doorway. Lena always does the housework. I think I remember at my parents house they had these… _creatures_ doing all of that, but Aunt Lena always says that she never saw the need for 'house elves', (whatever those are), because it's just the two of us and not a very big house. At least, not as big as my parents' house was.

"Yes, Ainley?"

"Where is everyone? The rest of our family?"

Okay, this might be a bit nuts, sure, but I've gone back and forth in my head trying to come up with a good way to bring up the subject and nothing ever comes to mind that sounds any less crazy. So, I just figured I'd come right out with it and hope she doesn't have her five year old niece committed.

She blinks at me for a moment. "What? Ainley… You're parents are gone, you know that, sweetheart. It's just me and you."

I shake my head, "No, I wasn't talking about Mum and Da'. I meant the other ones, the other girls. I remember… sort of. There were two of them, I think. They're my age."

Lena stares at me before coming to stand in front of me and kneeling to my level. Her hand comes up to check my forehead. "Ainley, I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you ill, lass?"

I pull away from her. "No, I'm not. How can you not know? I… I'm sure they…"

I _am _sure, right? A couple of years ago I was, but the longer I'm here, it's like… It's as if everything I was sure about before is starting to slip away, all the things I thought I remembered before I got here... No, I _refuse _to believe that I'm losing my mind, goddamn it.

Aunt Lena shakes her head, "Ah, Ainley, I think you had a very strange dream last night, darling. There aren't other girls, you're an only child."

I'm getting angry now, and I curl my hands into fists and stomp my foot. "No! I _know _it's not a dream!"

"Then it's your overactive imagination again." She says dismissively. By now she's gone back over to the sink and doesn't even look at me.

"Ugh! No!" I have to make her understand. Then I'll know I'm not crazy. "It's not my imagination, Lena. They're real, I know it! I'm _not supposed to be here!_"

Before Aunt Lena gets a chance to turn and scold me for yelling at her, the drawer next to her opens by itself and one of the knifes comes zooming toward me at top speed, landing directly into my hand. I stare at it for a second.

_What the hell?_

"Ainley!" Lena comes toward me and snatches the knife back. I look up at her, eyes wide. At first she looks shocked and a little frightened, but then her expression changes to something I don't recognize. She looks at the knife to the open drawer and then back at me. When she looks at me, she seems to relax a bit, as if she suddenly understands what happened.

"Aunt Lena, what just happened? How did I… I'm sorry!"

"Sh, lass, it's alright. It's normal, don't be sorry." She smiles slightly before hugging me and leaving the kitchen.

Wait, what? I just made a piece of cutlery, a _sharp _one at that, fly toward me and Aunt Lena says it's normal? The fuck?

Maybe I'm not the crazy one, after all.


	5. Chapter 4

**Cassiopeia**

My mother is a paranoid sociopath. It's been four years. Four long years since my father was killed and she's still paranoid as crap that someone's coming to get us, and honestly I'm starting to believe her. There were three assassination attempts on Mother and several on me for things she still won't tell me about. Everytime I ask her anything even remotely about the multiple attempts on either of our lives she completely flips out and yells at me and anyone even remotely in hearing distance before locking herself in the manor for a few days before returning to work like everything is normal.

I have no idea why people want to kill us but something tells me it had something to do with my father and his rather...poor choice decisions... in picking sides during the last war.

The war that's spoken about in hushed whispers between some of the customers of Mother's shop that rings a couple bells in the foggy part of my mind where my real life resides.

Her condition has been slowly deteriorating for the past few years. She's gotten colder, less like my Mother. She stopped having weekly tea with the ladies, and hired a new owner for her shop. She's been locked up in her room, coming out only to visit my father's grave and to chastise me for playing with wands.

I've been careful with where I use magic in the house, trying to limit it only to areas that I know have spells on the doors that block out other magic. So far the only thing I haven't figured out is how to pick locks, or anything of that nature, with the wands I've already collected. I've tried a few simple spells out of the books in the library that I'm allowed to go near, and most have worked. Granted they're all mild cleaning spells or convenience spells that don't take a lot of effort, but they've worked nonetheless.

Like for example a few months back I was learning how to cast a simple levitation spell, when I heard loud thumping up the stairs. Hearing the angry muttering coming from outside the door, I scrambled to hide my wand in the little space under the floorboard but it was too late.

"You sneaky little child! Did you think I wouldn't know you were playing with magic when I told you not to? Do you want to end up like your father, dead, killed like he was an animal? Well? Do you?!" she screamed at me.

I cowered, scared out of my mind. She was not my mother anymore. Though I've always tried to escape her, there used to be something sweet about her that I loved. But now, there is no more of that. She is no longer someone I know.

She's so paranoid about the assassination of my father and the magic involved that I think she's beginning to fear all magic, not just the kind that got my father killed. Anything and everything is now considered dangerous to her, even the most simple of cleaning charms, and so I'm not even allowed to even remotely mention casting spells or wands themselves around her for fear of her blowing up.

But on the other hand, you'd think she'd be a bit more forgiving considering how paranoid she is about someone coming to attack us. I could teach myself how to defend myself, but no. Of course not. Instead, I'm locked inside my room high enough from the ground where I couldn't jump down without alerting anyone or injuring myself on total and complete lockdown. She even locked the doors from the outside to keep me from escaping. And the worst part is she had the elves remove anything even remotely entertaining from my room, including my instruments and the books I had up here. The only thing they left is my furniture and the various "ladylike" things in my room that I couldn't possibly use to harm myself or other things in my vicinity or even possibly let myself out. Honestly. That woman.

On that note, I've made absolutely no progress in figuring out how to get out what-so-fucking-ever. Whatever brought me here has completely vanished, or at least has no obvious paper trail. Then again, I'm still blocked from entering what my mother refers to as the "Restricted Section" of our library. She is wary of me going near for fear of "ending up like Augustus".

Apparently there's some rare, dark shit in there, and quite frankly, it seems like whatever brought me here is of the darker nature. I've tried picking the lock on the restricted section, but mother is somehow always alerted and finds me. There are these things called wards (kind of like alarms) that keep people out of that part of the library.

My Mother has made it clear that all things magic are off limits in my household, especially those considered dark magic, and seems to . But really? This is a dream. How can there even be a light and dark to this bullshit. Everything's a figment of my imagination anyway, so why should I have to define myself with a side? This is total bullshit. Total and complete bullshit.

Seriously.

I've been here for a few hours now, and it's gotten extremely dark outside. Minutes seem like years and seconds seem more unbearable than anything I've ever known. Why there isn't a clock in here somewhere I'll never know.

Even my tutoring is more entertaining than this bullshit; and that's just relearning things I already know.

The only reason I haven't removed one of my wands right now is that she randomly has the elves pop in to check on me every once in a while.

So bored. Bored. All of the boredom is convalescing on my location.

OH WAIT. IDEA.

No wait, that's a terrible idea. Where am I going to get that much whipped cream at this time of night? And without leaving my room? There's no possible way.

Sigh. Fuck my dream.

Wait if my mother can do that teleporting thing can I? Is that even possible? I could leave here and go do something fun. Or I could pop into the restricted section of the library. Hm. Decisions.

A loud clanging from outside of my window pulled me out of my musings. As I rushed to look out of it I noticed that there seemed to be a few dark shapes illuminated by the bright flashes of spellfire hitting the wards.

Wait. The wards, the clanging noise, the spellfire.

Holy shit, we're under attack! Okay what do I do, the wards will only hold for so much longer, I can see them starting to deteriorate from here allowing little pockets to form in the bubble they made around the house. Surprisingly, no one had come to take me away from the scene like they should have, and god knows mother will never call the aurors considering what happened to father and the surrounding chaos.

The ministry really is a shit place.

A spell got through the protective shields and hit my window, cracking the glass, and I let out an ear piercing shriek as bits and pieces of my window flew about my room. I ran to my door and found that I was still locked inside.

Fuck. Why hasn't anyone came around to get me yet? Are they not seeing this? I'm in so much trouble. If I die here will I die in real life? That's what happens when you die in a dream right? You die in real life. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

The window next to the broken one was the next to shatter, causing me to seek cover from behind the massive wooden footboard of my bed. If only they didn't have their wands, then they couldn't launch any more spells and we would be at least mildly safe until mother could actually be productive and do something. But how? I can't do anything like that! The third window in my room broke, scattering sharp bits of glass around the room and allowing more spellfire to enter.

I am so fucking screwed.

I could feel my hair changing color in my panic and indecision. I'm helpless. There's no one coming to save me, no one to protect me, so the real question is how do I protect myself? The wands! It wouldn't hurt to try, and I'm already desperate. What do I have to lose at this point?

I hastily pulled out my sack of wands in my pocket and faintly registered a blue light surrounding me and them.

"I need to protect myself, protect my house, protect my mother, protect the elves. Keep the bad people away." I muttered over and over with my eyes closed, pushing my energy into my wand collection willing for something to happen. Willing for anything to happen.

And suddenly the world was bathed in blue, so bright I could see the light from behind my closed eyelids. Opening them slowly I could see now that they were slowly rotating around my room, tips glowing and pointed outwards and were slowly moving to cover the house, engulfing it in a massive blue bubble brighter than anything I had ever seen. Looking down I saw that I was positively crackling with energy in the same blue as the shield and I could feel it being reflected in my eyes too.

At that moment I knew we were going to be okay, that this shield wouldn't be broken by magic, that no one would be coming in to attack anyone here, and that there was no more immediate danger.

I stood in my exact position for what must have been twenty minutes until the energy calmed down around me and the wands came back, falling into a pile at my feet. The bubble around the house still stood erect, though less brightly than before, and I am no longer engulfed in any sort of glow, the blue completely gone from my appearance along with the loss of energy.

The last thing I could remember was my mother finally bursting into my room in full hysterics and her hysteric call of "CASSIOPEIA!" before falling into complete and total blackness.

**Ainley**

The Ministry of Magic is probably the absolute worst place I've ever had the misfortune of visiting in my entire life. I despise almost everyone in this godforsaken place. For one thing, the Minister is a corrupt, self-righteous asshole who accepts a bribe from literally any sort of vermin that crosses his path. He always attempts to be nice to me and sugar coat me when I'm here like he does everyone else, but for the most part I just ignore him. He irritates the fuck out of me.

About the only people I can tolerate with any connection to the Ministry are the Diggorys. Aunt Lena works with Amos Diggory in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. When I was little Lena would bring me with her since I had nowhere else to go when she was at work. I mean, in all honestly I could've handled myself, but of course Aunt Lena didn't think so. That's how I met Cedric. After his mother died Amos started bringing Cedric to the Ministry with him too, so we've known each other for years.

Today I'm at the Ministry with Aunt Lena only to meet up with the Diggorys. It was easier for us to meet here than for them to come to our house in Scotland to pick me up. Apparently Amos recently discovered something called a 'zoo' and is really interested in visiting one, so that's what we're doing today. I see Cedric and walk up to him and his father.

"Hey, Ced." I say, going up on my toes a bit to hug him. He's a couple years older, so at the moment he's much taller than me.

"Hey Ainley," He replies, smiling and hugging me back. He's never really acted like I was any younger than him, but I guess that's because I act so much older than I am. I mean, technically I'm _a lot _older than I currently am, but I stopped trying to figure that bullshit out a long time ago.

I smile at Amos, "Hi, Mr. Diggory. Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course, Ainley! You're one of Cedric's best friends. Are you ready?"

I nod, turning and waving goodbye to Aunt Lena as we walk away toward the apparation point.

"So, what exactly is this 'zoo' thing?" I ask Cedric.

"I'm not really sure. I've never been, but I think it's where muggles keep animals. There's supposed to be a bunch of them all in one place."

"Ah." Well, that kind of makes sense. Being as Mr. Diggory works in a Department dealing with magical creatures, I guess it's normal to be interested in non-magical creatures, too.

We reach the apparation point and we hold onto Mr. Diggory as he transports us to the zoo.

"Our last stop are the Grizzly Bears. They can live in a variety of habitats…"

Amos thought it'd be best if we took a tour of the zoo instead of just walking around like everyone else. He said that "we'd be sure not to miss anything" this way. So, we've been walking around this zoo for a hour and a half, learning literally everything about muggle animals. Panthers, Lions, Otters, Ostriches, Kangaroos… ALL OF THEM. And oddly enough, I remember everything he's been saying about them. I guess animals is just one of those things I'm going to be good at. Now we're back toward the entrance and he's continuing to rattle off information.

"...They're typically very solitary animals, but really aren't that territorial. Females stay with their cubs for about 2-3 years before the cubs can start moving further away from her..."

Suddenly I feel Cedric bump me. At first I don't pay any attention, but then he does it again.

"What?" I ask, slightly annoyed.

"What happened to your hand?" I frown at him, looking down at my hand.

_What the fuck?_

That's not my hand. Out of nowhere my hand's been replaced by a paw. Like, a _bear's _paw. I look back up at Cedric. "I… Uh. I have no idea."

"...Grizzly bears are described as an 'umbrella species," meaning that when humans protect their species, we also simultaneously protect many other species because they play such important roles in their habitats..."

I look down at my hand again only to find that my other hand is now a paw as well. WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING? The tour guide looks at me and smiles.

"Oh hey! You got some of the gloves from the gift shop!"

I stare at him. Muggles sell _bear paw_ gloves? "Uh… sure?"

"Ainley? Are you alright?" Mr. Diggory asks, looking down at my paws.

I quickly retreat to the back of the group trying not to completely lose my shit. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…_

"They have concave faces, a distinctive hump on their shoulders, and claws that are usually about two to four inches long…"

I'm distracted from my paws by this weird feeling. It feels like my _bones _are shifting, but it doesn't hurt at all. I don't know what-

_Well, fuck._

Suddenly my perspective changes, and I'm looking up at everyone from a much lower point. Wait, why the fuck-

_OH MY GOD I AM A FUCKNG BEAR! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS SHIT, HOW THE FUCK… WHY… WHAT…_

I am brought out of my freak out when I hear someone scream. I look up and scream too, but it comes out like a roar. Oops.

Everyone flips total shit. People are running and screaming, trying to get as far the hell away from me as possible, and I see the tour guide calling for security screaming, "One of the Grizzlies got loose! We need someone to come down and catch it!"

_Oh hell no! _

I look for Cedric and Mr. Diggory. Cedric's mouth is hanging open in disbelief and Mr. Diggory looks absolutely amazed.

"Ainley?! Bloody hell, that's fantastic!" And then Mr. Diggory starts laughing!

I want to strangle them both, or eat them I suppose in this case, but then I see men coming toward me with these weird sticks and netting.

_Oh, nope. Fuck this shit, time to go. Bye-bye._

I make a break for the exit. I'm actually pretty damn fast, so that's a plus. I manage to run through the entrance and behind a trash can. The muggles seemed to have lost track of me, I can only hope they don't figure it out.

Now how the fuck do I get back to being human?!

_Okay, Ainley, okay. Calm down. Relax. This can't be that hard. Just… think human! Yeah, sure, that works. Think human, think human, think human… NO WAIT! Think human WITH CLOTHES. Yeah, clothes would be good. Definitely clothes. Think human with clothes. Come on. COME ON!_

And bam, suddenly I'm human again. I look down quickly and see that I am indeed wearing clothes. Thank God.

I come out from behind the trash can as Amos and Cedric come running up to me.

"Great Scot, Ainley! How did you do that?" Mr. Diggory asks me.

"I have no idea! I didn't mean to, I don't know happened!"

"This is incredible! Bloody brilliant! Come, we've got to tell Lena about this!"

Mr. Diggory walks away, leaving just Cedric and me. Incredible? What? That was so _not _brilliant. He seems to know what I just did... Why the hell didn't he tell me?!

Cedric must know what I'm thinking, because he puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Uh… Yeah. I think so, it was just…"

"Super weird, I know. But in hindsight, you have to admit it was kinda funny. I mean, one second you're Ainley, and the next you're a bloody bear! Did you see the muggles' faces?"

Despite being super unnerved, I find myself laughing. "They were pretty funny huh? I don't think I've ever seen anyone run so fast in my life!"

We both laugh, and Cedric puts his arm around my shoulders as we follow his father back to the apparation point.

**Eulalie**

I visited my mother's clothing shop today. Though my father is already rather wealthy from whatever he does all day, my mother still wanted to open a quaint little shop in town where she sells beautiful gowns with the most gorgeous fabrics. She's loved sewing ever since she was a little girl, and didn't want to give it up even after marriage. I love going there whenever she takes me, and learning how she makes the dresses. I like to play around in the fabrics and pretend I'm a little kid. Well, I guess I am technically a little kid now.

The dresses are so goddamn fluffy. Some people order dresses that go straight down, which are pretty I guess, but the best ones are the ones that are three or four times bigger than the person wearing them. How they move in those I'll never know, but they sure do like the belle of the ball when they wear them.

I came in today because my mother told me I needed a dress made for the ball we're hosting as celebration for something relating to my father's work, or something like that. Truth be told, I don't really pay attention to what my parents say. I'm too busy playing with Ames, or with the neighborhood girls, or hosting tea parties, or something.

My mother has been teaching me how to be a lady since I am coming of age. How to make tea, how to set the table, how to dress for occasions. All that jazz.

Now, I am of the opinion that women deserve equality. But damn, is it fun to look pretty and act like a little lady every time my parents' friends come in. I love it when people love me. I'm pretty darn special.

Anyways, I told her that I wanted my dress to be big and fluffy. It's going to be blood red with glittering crystals and matching elbow length gloves. It may be a bit much for a nine-year old, but this is the place I'm going to grow up in, and I'm going to be taking the throne of my family. As I've been growing up the past few years and have been invited to more and more events with acquaintances of my family, I realize just how much we are respected. Almost feared.

Everything my parents want just...happens. It's amazing. I love that power. Even though I'm still a tiny little kid, they still treat me with that respect. That's why it's so important for me to follow my mothers teaching on how to be a lady. I want to be a femme fatale in this world. When I take over my family's business, whatever it is, I'm going to dominate this circle of mine.

It's especially great since I found out I could control people a few years ago. Well, it's not exactly controlling. But I can tell people to act a certain way and they'll do it. For example, when Tomas, our butler of sorts, wouldn't let me have some chocolate cake because it was past my bedtime, in my head I felt angry, which translated to him feeling...anxious? He started acting weird, as if he felt something bad was going to happen if he didn't give me cake, and he gave me a slice.

It's really weird to explain how it works, but it's been great for me. It only helps make people revere me more.

I can't wait until I grow older, and I start working with my father. I plan on learning everything. Being the best at everything.

I saw a woman come in to the shop with her daughter. I remember her from the last time I was here. She ordered a dress for her daughter, around my age, as a present. It was a light blue ballgown with white tulle under. It looked absolutely magical.

Not better than mine though. Red is always better.

I went up to meet with Marie, the attendant at the front desk, because I wanted to help her get the dress. Mainly because I wanted to see it.

"Good morning Mademoiselle Melanie, good to see you today. How are you, little Amelie?" Marie asked the two.

"I'm good, merci," Amelie said shyly. She was a cute girl. But a bit dumb though.

"Let me get your dress out right now. You can sit in the dressing room and I'll meet you there," Marie replied, leaving me at the desk.

"I can take you in there, Mademoiselle," I said to Melanie. She smiled at me. "What a polite little girl. _Merci, _little Eulalie."

I led them both into the dressing room through a beautifully designed door to the back of the store. We walked into a room full of mirrors with a curtain partition for whoever was getting dressed.

I took a quick peek at myself into the mirror. My dark, black hair that waved down to the small of my back contrasted well with my red lips. I put on mascara and lipstick everyday, making sure I looked perfect.

After a few moments, Marie came out with the dress. Melanie rushed Amelie into the portion of the room with the curtain, and came out a few minutes later with Amelie in the dress.

Eh. It was alright. Amelie was a little chubby and it was clear. The measurements for the dress must have been taken when Amelie was a few kilograms lighter, because that dress is practically bursting at the seams. She even had a tomato-red face, probably from having to breathe shallowly. Melanie seemed to have noticed this too, but tried to hide the disappointment that was her child. Poor Melanie.

"The dress is...beautiful Marie. However, I kind of want to discuss some alterations. Is Ms. Dechesne around?" Melania said. "Yes, I can take you to her right now." "Thank you, Marie. Stay right here, Amelie," she said and left the room.

"Nice dress, Amelie," I said to the little girl. She smiled at me and said "Merci." What a cute little girl. "You don't seem to fit in that dress. Is it tight?" "Yes, a little," she said, frowning. As much as I wanted to laugh, I realized that that would be a little mean, and instead went to reach out and touch her shoulder. My mother told me that that's a good thing to do to show that you care about the other person.

Immediately after I touched her though, the room as I win startlingly changed scenery. Suddenly, everything was tinted green, and I saw a vision of Amelie and our neighborhood boy smiling at each other, with Amelie's head turned down shyly. Hm, they seemed like there's more there than I know about. Before I could understand how exactly I got into this room however, I was immediately transported back to the room, and I saw Melanie staring at me with wide eyes.

I don't know why I just saw that. But I do know (somehow) that Melanie is crushing on some boy that lives in her neighborhood. I had an idea.

"Hey Melanie. Are you going to take a boy as a date to your party?" I knew her parents didn't allow her to be with boys like that, so I was looking forward to her response.

She blushed red. "No!" she exclaimed. "Oh really? A little birdie told me otherwise. Who's that boy? Tell me or I'll tell your mom all about your little crush!" I pushed her mind to feel nervous. Like someone was creeping up on her. I know that would make her break and start crying.

And she did. "No please Eully, don't tell her! I'll tell you everything!" And she told me all about her little crush. As a bonus, she also told me about her friend's crush, for whatever reason.

This gave me leverage. Something I'd keep in my gossip bank for future use. Though I never cared to listen to my parents' conversation, I kept up with everything the little kids said. Often, they said everything that they heard or seen, including things that weren't supposed to get out. And now I got more.

By the time Amelie wiped her tears away, her mother came back. "Get out of that dress, dear, we'll come back next week for the dress," she said.

I didn't really stay any longer there because I didn't care for those two, so I went to the back room and sat there in all the fabric to think.

What was that that I did? How did I see her..memory? Was it a part of my ability to change people's emotions? Was it something else?

Whatever it was, I could use this for some serious damage.


End file.
